


Hurricane Winds

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hurricane, Nonfiction, Original work - Freeform, Real Life, Storm - Freeform, poetry?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Based off a true story. Just a small recollection of one of my experiences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This actually happened. In 2016, when Hurricane Matthew hit, everyone I knew evacuated. My mom had survived multiple hurricanes, and decided she could survive this one. It was scary, but I remember waking up the next morning and going on a walk around my neighborhood. There was no one else out. I played in the puddles. I enjoyed the wind.
> 
> Also, I saw some Harry Potter cosplayers going on a photoshoot with the wind, but ignore that.

The calm after the storm is almost indescribable. Few people get to witness it; most of them evacuated before the storm hit. Not me. I was there when the wind pounded the windows, when my mother and father sat in the living room, mumbling silent prayers, while me and my sisters hid in the upstairs room, because it seemed all of our family in the area had come to stay. The streets were flooded, and we feared the water levels would reach the house. And then the power went out, and the home was only lit by candles. 

But, being that I was a child at the time, I had fallen asleep in the middle of the storm. I woke up first, too. The house was still intact. Everything inside the home was just as it had been left the night before. I carefully crept out of the bed I shared with my sisters, my socked feet not making a sound as I quietly padded down the hall. The power was still out, but the light let in by the windows at the top of the staircase that had been too high to board up allowed me to see where I was going.

It was strangely quiet. Usually, at this hour, all of the neighborhood children would be out making a ruckus with their early morning games. Not today, though. The house was silent, except for my parents’ snores, and an odd sound coming from outside. It was a low, howling sound. I slowly opened the door, just wide enough for me to squeeze through, and found myself outside.

The sun had just began to peek over the horizon, casting pink hues over the land. The streets were flooded, the water almost reaching my wist. I realized the howling sound was the wind. The storm was over, but a breeze blew past, bringing with it trash, shingles, and twigs. I ducked to avoid getting hit by part of a fence.

The peace I felt was hard to put into words. It was like it was me, and only me existing in that moment. I felt the wind in my hair and the cool water on my feet. I watched as the sun rose, reflecting off the puddles. 

The storm was over. We were okay.


End file.
